For days Marta had been growing braver, less fearful of Guiseppe. There was no sign of fright on her face even when Guiseppe shook his fist at her.
"You grow a bigger fool every day," he was saying. "You let her go. When I find her I'll beat her. If I'm good to her one day she walks over me the next. I'll beat you both, you fool, do you hear?"
"Sono qui [I am here], Guiseppe," came faintly from Pappina's trembling lips. "Don't be cross, Guiseppe. I didn't think you would care."
Guiseppe turned toward her fiercely; he started to upbraid her, but there was such an expression of submissive beauty on her face, that he stopped and wheeled suddenly about.
"Get along," he muttered. "I'll walk behind to–day for a change."
Pappina forgot about the money, even that she had it, until it hurt her foot as she walked.
"I'll never tell," she vowed to herself. "It's mine, and some day when he's so mean and horrid that we can't stand him any longer, Marta and I will run away."
Several times, in a forgiving spirit, Pappina went back to Guiseppe and walked by his side, trying to be friendly with him. Her efforts each time were met with a scowl that sent her again to Marta, who always gave her a welcoming smile.
Guiseppe grumbled almost constantly to himself. Marta, fearing trouble, said to Pappina: